8 Women Designing for Belonging in Detroit

Democratizing Design

The same commitment to intentionality drives Ujiji Williams of JIMA Studio. Williams grounds her practice in the Kwanzaa principle of Ujima—collective work and responsibility—and applies it to site planning, outdoor space, and land stewardship in historically disinvested communities. “High-quality outdoor environments are rare in Black and brown neighborhoods,” she says. “My work is about changing that reality.”

Williams recalls a powerful project with the D.C. Housing Authority, where her team redesigned the neglected grounds of a public housing complex undergoing phased redevelopment. “We were designing for people without economic mobility,” she says. “People who deserve beauty, privacy, and dignity just as much as anyone else.”

This democratization of design also informs Kimberly Dokes, who established Dokes Design Architecture to serve communities that often lack access to design services. After years working in large firms, Dokes returned to her own practice full-time in 2019. Her team revitalized a media center at Barbara Preparatory Academy in Highland Park—a 1950s-era space with minimal funding. Rather than compromising on vision, the studio raised $20,000 to enhance the project’s design features, adding artwork and modern lighting that reflected students’ identities and aspirations.

“Architecture is a socially conscious profession,” Dokes says. “It’s our responsibility to deliver quality design regardless of budget.”

Valuing Reuse

At END Studio, Elise DeChard emphasizes play, equity, and material experimentation. Her projects span custom furniture, adaptive reuse, and interactive art—always grounded in local context. “We’re building new cultures of care within our teams,” she says. “And we’re creating spaces that reflect that care—spaces where people can be themselves, where design supports human connection.”

For Laura Marie Peterson of 1+1+ Architects, reuse is not just a tactic—it’s a value system. Her Peace Tree Parks project, a geodesic grow dome and kitchen, collects rainwater while hosting community cooking classes. The structure acts as both environmental infrastructure and cultural hub. “We think of it as a living room for the neighborhood,” she says. “A place where food, climate justice, and togetherness intersect.”

Peterson’s firm also co-founded the Detroit Reuse Collective and frequently collaborates on housing and zoning reform projects. Her goal, like her peers, is to repair the damage caused by decades of top-down planning and disinvestment. “Our work reflects the world we want to live in,” she says.

Radical Hospitality

Laura Walker, founder of Other Work, brings a critical lens to power and spatial equity. She recalls designing a pop-up climate clinic during the 2023 TED Countdown Summit in Detroit—complete with native plants, performance art, solar panels, and yes, a live pony. “We disrupted corporate space with radical hospitality,” she says. “Design can challenge systems while still being joyful.”

Even small-scale interventions can have outsized impacts. Mollie Decker of Subject Studio notes how one small lot park in her neighborhood sparked community engagement, holiday events, and a renewed sense of place. “It’s not always about massive developments,” she says. “Sometimes one pocket park can anchor a neighborhood.”

For Salam Rida of 9XS Design, the political urgency is ever-present. “We’re not operating under corporate slogans,” she says. “We’re building intentional businesses from the ground up—in opposition to erasure, exclusion, and performative empowerment.”

Rida critiques the rise of corporate feminism and “girl boss” branding, emphasizing that The New School’s approach is different: intersectional, anti-capitalist, and rooted in design justice. “Empowered women empower women—but we’re doing it in a way that doesn’t replicate harm,” she says.

Co-authoring Futures

The collective also functions as a peer support system. The women collaborate on bids, refer clients, share resources, and mentor junior staff. Many of them employ other women and actively reimagine workplace culture in their studios.

“We’ve all worked in environments where we felt unseen,” says DeChard. “Now we’re building firms that prioritize care—from how we design, to how we lead.”

The New School is not a collective of traditional firms, nor a nonprofit. It’s a design ecosystem. A movement of women reshaping not just what Detroit looks like—but what it feels like to live here.

In a profession that still struggles with gender equity, their work is quietly radical. They’re not waiting for a key—they’re designing entirely new doorways, and leaving them open for others to walk through.

Would you like to comment on this article? Send your thoughts to: [email protected]

• No tags selected

• Detroit
• Lynzee Mychael
• Women in Architecture